Life Goes On
by ForeverLilacLies
Summary: Shane had been right. Everything would have been better if he had just stayed dead. Lori could have survived, Judith would know her birth father and Carl would not be here. Each step was heavier than the last as Rick walked towards the door.Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. He'd never wake up again.


There were a lot of things Rick regretted since the dead started walking. He regretted losing Shane. Even if he would do it again in a heartbeat. He regretted not telling Lori that he loved her one last time. He regretted all the people he failed since the beginning. Carl...he regretted not being with Carl that last day. He regretted that it had to be his son who died when he barely had a chance to live.

Letting Negan live however, was not something he regretted. Carl wanted the war to end and if his boy wanted Negan to live to see it, then Rick would honor that wish. He knew there would be pushback. He knew that Maggie would never forgive him and that loss continued to sting overtime her narrowed, accusing eyes landed on him. He was reminded of this with the silence that Daryl offered him. Their friendship was in tatters. Another brother Rick lost.

 _I know I did this, and I'm sorry I hurt you._

Rick would regret the pain it caused his friends, but it changed nothing. Carl's final wish would be upheld. In the weeks since that final fight, things had slowly begun to steady out. The communities were working together and rebuilding and the remaining Saviors had managed to help with that. The woman that had followed at Negan's side often came to the communities aid. She had been loyal to Negan, but stepped into her role with ease, seeming to be more focused on keeping her people safe. Negan healed slowly, still weak from blood loss. Siddiq ensured he had proper medication and despite various protests from Maggie and Daryl, had stayed loyal to Rick's request.

"Thank you." Rick had murmured to the man after they had settled Negan onto a bed. Siddiq had only smiled slightly, dark eyes fixed on Rick. At that moment, Rick could see why Carl had helped him. Could see the same good in him that Carl had.

Rick and Michonne had taken it upon themselves to look after Negan. Neither wanting to put anyone else in that position. Michonne, however was hesitant to spend too much time in the man's presence. This usually left Rick to be the one to bring him meals and actually interact with him. While Negan tended to leave Michonne in peace, he baited and mocked Rick as soon as the man was down the stairs.

Rick learned to take it in stride. Negan only had his words. That was all he would ever have again.

There had been attempts on Negan's life. Twice, Rick was forced to come between someone and the door leading to Negan. Just the thought of it left a sour taste in Rick's mouth. He was torn between understanding why they wanted to psychopath dead and disgust that they would kill him unarmed and behind bars. For the last few days, Michonne had been the one to deliver food while Rick had prowled the perimeter of the makeshift prison, ensuring there were no weak points that could be taken advantage of.

"Rick, I wondered when you'd come down and visit." Negan called out as Rick reached the bottom step with his food. Rick hummed in greeting. He slid the plate to Negan who offered him a grin showing too many teeth.

"I wondered when you were gonna come back to see little old me. Heard the commotion upstairs last week. Some of your people came to kill me, right? But you wouldn't let them. Of course not, Saint Rick is above all that bullshit, right?"

"People are angry. They're gonna have to learn how to live with this." Rick replied, arms crossing over his chest. Negan snorted at this, running his fingers through his beard as if deep in thought.

"Coulda saved yourself a shit ton of trouble by just letting me bleed out." Negan's eyes narrowed at Rick who stared back, unaffected.

"You're alive for a reason, Negan." Negan looked ready to argue that, but the words died on his tongue and for once, he had nothing to say in response. He knew why he was alive. The only reason he was alive.

Rick could remember walking into that room after the gun had gone off, how silent it had been. He hadn't breathed as he walked through the door, hoping against all hope that his son would be sitting there, grinning at him with the gun untouched.

 _"It was just a joke, dad. Stop crying, dad. I was just playing."_

Carl however was not sitting and grinning. He would never grin again. Rick could remember seeing Carl slumped on the dusty floor, eyes closed and curled in on himself as if he were sleeping, expression peaceful. Rick could almost fool himself that his baby was just asleep if not for the splash of red on the side of his head. For a long while, Rick simply watched him.

 _Wake up Carl, playtime's over._

 _"Rick...Rick I can-"_ Michonne reached out to offer support as Rick knelt beside Carl to lift him up. Her hand was shaking erratically and Rick knew that she couldn't do it.

Carl had been heavy in death, but Rick had carried him as if he were still a baby, cradling him in shaking arms while Michonne wept behind him, face buried in hands as her emotions finally poured out beyond her control. There was Rick's whole reason for living, cradled in his arms. He had failed him. He had failed Lori. Shane had been right. Everything would have been better if he had just stayed dead. Lori could have survived, Judith would know her birth father and Carl would not be here. Each step was heavier than the last as Rick walked towards the door.

 _Wake up. Wake up. Wake **up**._

He'd never wake up again.

Most days went easily enough. Most days went easily enough. Life went on. It didn't stop just because his baby did. Sometimes, Negan would have scathing, biting words to throw at Rick, but other times, he was nearly amicable. It was unsettling, but maybe that's why he did it. Friendliness was more off-putting than his hate. "Your hair's looking extra fluffy today." Negan teased in that neck jerking way of his that always left Rick floundering. Rick had been settled against the wall, waiting for Negan to finish eating and the comment had him jumping.

His hand quickly moved to this head, feeling the curls that was at an almost unmanageable length. "Yeah, I know I need to cut it. Michonne's already pointed it out." He replied and Negan sniggered, pushing the plate forward.

"I never said it needed to be cut, Rick. Just said it was fluffy." His grin was teasing and uneasiness warred in Rick's chest. Negan's eyes had gone soft and his smile was less teasing then Rick was used to. When Negan got like this, Rick was always left uncertain and tongue tied. _'He's flirting with you."_ Michonne had once told him and Rick had brushed that comment off. She had almot sounded amused by it, eyes dancing as she had regarded Rick across the mountains of pillows.

"I can bring you books if you'd like." Rick suddenly found himself offering and Negan tilted his head back, teeth shining in the dimly lit basement.

"You offerin' me books now, darlin'? I'd be delighted." Rick's cheeks flamed up at this and he shuffled, looking away from Negan.

"I don't know what kinda books you'd read, but I can bring some down tomorrow."

"I'd accept anything you'd offer." Negan's voice was a rumble that was as smooth as honey. It left Rick's throat feeling tight. He nodded, fingers fiddling absently with a loose string on his sleeve. Negan's smile had become tender as he looked Rick over, the mirth now gone. "How are you?" Negan suddenly asked, tone dropping into something more serious. Rick looked up in surprise.

"What?"

"How are you doing, Rick?" Negan asked again, tone patient. "You're looking thin. You taking care of yourself?" This always left Rick lost for words. He could contend with angry, bitter Negan, but not this. Not this gentleness.

"I...I'm doin' alright." He found himself speaking, staring at Negan who tilted his head. His beard had grown wild in the last few weeks, maiking him look like a completely different person.

"Your little girl doing good?" Negan asked. Rick nodded.

"Yeah, Judith's doin' good."

Negan stroked a hand through his beard, staring Rick down. Even through the bars, their was a magnetic intensity to him. "You look like you could use some sleep. I'm sure your girlfriend can keep the place in order for a bit. You should get some rest." Rick opened his mouth to reply when the door leading upstairs burst open, startling both men. Negan actually stepped back from the bars, head tilted back.

"Rick!" Michonne's voice was breathless and Rick heard her stumble as she made her way down the stairs. She stopped on a middle step, looking to where Rick was staring at her in open confusion. He had never seen her so frazzled. "Rick, you need to come with me." Michonne's eyes were large and shining, Rick noticed that the banister was shaking with the grip Michonne had on it.

"Michonne, what's wrong?" Rick stepped away from Negan's cell. Michonne hesitated, looking up the steps and back to Rick as if lost for words. Rick could hear various voices overhead, sounding shocked and getting louder. Rick understood then. A crowd was gathered to kill Negan. They were outnumbered. Negan was going to die. Rick glanced towards Negan who seemed to have come to the same conclusion. His jaw was set as he looked up at Michonne, then he looked back to Rick and offered him a crooked smile.

" _Dad_?" A voice called out from upstairs and Rick's legs nearly collapsed under him. He tore his eyes away from Negan and met Michonne's eyes. The woman nodded once, her lips trembling. Behind him, Negan released a soft curse. Rick looked over his shoulder to the man who was gripping the bar with a clenched fist. Michonne motioned up the steps and Rick hesitated for barely a second before tearing up after her, leaving Negan to stare after him.

There were people everywhere, all talking once, looking to Rick in open shock. Maggie was shaking, standing closest to the door, a hand held protectively over her stomach. She looked over at Rick and for the first time in weeks, there was no coldness in her stare. She offered him a smile, tears welling in her eyes. Rick's heart raced in his chest, loud in his ears. How did they not hear it? Time began to slow down around him. Time was meaningless in that moment. The crowd parted and in the center, stood Carl Grimes, dirty haggard but alive.

Time froze.

"Dad."

Rick stumbled and time returned with a vengeance. "You're not real." How many times had he had this dream? How many times did he have to reunite with his child only for him to turn to dust in his arms? When would it be enough? Rick would get his hopes up; foolishly thinking his son was back, only for him to die all over couldn't do this. He couldn't handle watching Carl die in front of him night after night.

Carl shifted his stance, suddenly looking all of ten years old and uncertain. He wasn't wearing the stetson. Which was odd. Usually, Carl was always wearing it when he appeared. There was also small changes in his son. A new broadness in the shoulders and it looked as if he had grown an inch or two, nearly eye level with Rick. The dead boy took a slow step forward, lifting up a shaking hand towards his father.

"That...that day in the woods when I got shot...you carried me to Hershel...you ran...you didn't give up on me for a second..." Carl trailed off, hand falling to his side. "I wrote you that letter and there was a lot I wanted to say...a lot I didn't have room for...dad...I'm real."

"You," Rick tried to speak, but it came out wavering and small. He breathed sharply, shuddering as he stared at his son. His living, breathing son. He took an uncertain step back, swaying on his feet and blinking as his vision blurred. "You're alive." He finally managed to speak those words that for several weeks had not been a reality.

Carl's eye was bloodshot and he wiped at his nose with a dirty sleeve. "Yeah." Rick's lip wobbled, face screwing up as he wept. Carl's expression matched his.

Then they were moving forward, Carl slamming against Rick as he threw his arms around him. Rick's legs buckled, sending father and son into the dirt. Rick clung to Carl, a eerily similar position to when they had reunited the first time. Carl's face was buried against Rick's shoulder and he could feel the material of his shirt dampening. He could hear someone babbling incoherently, words muddled and teary and it took him a second to understand that it was him, openly sobbing as he held onto his child.

"I'm sorry. Dad, I'm sorry." Carl's voice was muffled against his shoulder. "I should have come back sooner. I'm sorry." Rick shook his head, not bothering to answer and continued to rock Carl back and forth. He could feel everyone's stares. All that mattered in that moment was his son who was breathing unsteadily against him, clinging at him with desperation. Rick pulled back and pressed his lips against Carl's forehead, eyes closed as tears continued to steadily course down his cheeks.

"You were- you were _dead_ ," Rick murmured, hand stroking through Carl's hair, the texture just as he remembered. He couldn't find the words. He could barely think straight as he continued to run his fingers through Carl's hair, desperate that this time it was for real. Desperate that Carl wouldn't vanish again. "Please don't leave again."

"I won't." Carl croaked. His cheeks were ruddy and tear stained. He didn't bother wiping the tears away. "I want to _stay_."

"You will, Carl," Rick murmured against Carl's hair. "You'll stay."

Michonne dropped down beside them and Rick and Carl pulled her into their hug, earning a breathless, teary laugh from the woman. The crowd gathered were quietly dispersing, allowing the reunion to take place in privacy. Michonne looked up to see Maggie slip towards the door, expression softer than she had seen it in months. For a moment, their eyes met and Maggie offered her a tiny smile before disappearing out the door. That smile held more weight than anything Michonne had expected. Michonne wiped at her eyes, offering a weak laugh as she looked from Rick to Carl who had tucked his head under his father's chin, looking both exhausted and peaceful as he remained curled against Rick.

"Carl." Rick breathed, quietly rocking his son as if he were Judith's age. Carl had no complaints to offer. "My baby." Michonne pressed her lips against Carl's cheek, and the boy's smile was breathtaking as he looked at her.

"I'm going to get Judith." Michonne whispered as she stood, Rick's hand still clinging to hers. Both Grimes offered her dazzling twin smiles and she returned it, leaning forward to press a kiss against both their foreheads. She pulled away, throwing them another smile over her shoulder before allowing father and son their privacy. Carl turned away from the door Michonne walked through to find his father's eyes fixed on him. They hadn't moved from the floor, sitting in a tangle of limbs. Rick continued to smile tearfully at him, hand cupping his cheek and stroking over his skin.

"I-I...Negan's alive," Rick struggled for the words. "You wanted me to let him live." Carl smiled tiredly at his father, pulling him in for another hug.

"I knew you would. I knew you'd win. You did good dad. I'm so proud of you." Rick wanted to ask how. Wanted to know how his boy could live after being bit and after shooting himself, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to break the magic of this moment. Carl's fingers found his and he entwined their fingers, head tucked under his father's chin.

And for once, all was right in the world.

* * *

 **I fixed it. It doesn't have to make sense. Carl's back. Boom. Carl bonds with jailbird Negan. Rick sleeps more easily at night. CARL FUCKING LIVES.**


End file.
